


Hunter

by melliejellie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aftercare, Bokuto is still a ray of sunshine, Claws, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Possessive Sex, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Vaguely Medieval setting, belly bulge, consensual wolf sex, monster hunter!Tsukishima, scared is the best way to be horny, wolf!Bokuto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:41:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27314962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melliejellie/pseuds/melliejellie
Summary: Tsukishima is a monster hunter hired by the farmers in a small village whose livestock are being eaten. Bokuto is the friendly innkeeper with a toothy smile and *big* secret.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 13
Kudos: 198
Collections: HQ Monster Lovin Weekend 2020





	Hunter

Tsukishima doesn’t notice anything about the inn the night he drags his overworked body inside for a rest. He skips dinner and opts to lie down and sleep until his eyes naturally open again on their own. He’s been travelling for weeks looking for substantial hunting work.

Every few towns he’s gotten some small side jobs, more nuisances than proper beasts, but it’s not been enough to afford a proper place to sleep. That is until his last job, a human-turned-monster deep in forgotten corridors of a castle, paid him handsomely enough for him to sleep on something more than just the forest floor but left him exhausted and aching down to his bones.

When he wakes, it’s already dark. He’s not sure if its been hours or days. He needs a bath. He needs food. His stomach growls ferociously and he decides food wins.

Downstairs is already too loud for his liking. Perhaps the forest floor was better. It wasn’t comfortable, but at least it wasn’t filled with singing drunkards. He scowls and a dancing man that was just about to run into him has a look of fear flash across his face before he darts back away.

Good. Not bathing has added to his aura of “don’t fuck with me.” His armor adorned with prizes from beats he’s slain finish the job. He drags himself to the bar counter and orders before settling in.

“Two ales and whatever’s on the menu tonight.”

“That would be my world-famous meat pies! Coming right up with two less than famous, only sort of acceptable, but certainly plentiful, ales.”

Tsukishima glances up from the sticky bar top to view the owner of that overly chipper voice. He expects to see some sort of slender, jumpy barhand, but instead he gets--

“How many silver pieces you got on ya? I can keep it flowing all night.”

A muscled wall of a man whose leather apron is doing very little to hide the way his shirt stretches tight over his chest is smiling down at him. He turns to grab for something on a high shelf and, somehow, the view from the back is even better.

“Enough to take you up on your offer,” Tsukishima replies, setting down his coin purse with a heavy thunk.

The man’s eyes grow wider as a smile stretches across his face.

“Big spender! Don’t get many of that type in these parts. I’ll be sure you get the best-looking pie.”

There’s a grumble from another person down the bar and the man laughs, “Don’t worry! You’ll get the second-best!”

The man busies himself and Tsukishima watches him work. He’s clearly the owner, judging by the way the other workers quickly respond to his requests. He checks on pies and serves up ales all while making sure to stop and chat with every face around the bar.

By the time he makes it back to Tsukishima, plopping down a still-steaming meat pie in front of him, he feels tired just from watching the innkeeper work.

“So are you the monster hunter?” The innkeeper asks, dropping his elbows to the bartop and resting his head on his open palm in front of Tsukishima.

In response, Tsukishima raises one eyebrow.

“Ah, you probably are then. It checks out. You have silver. You have more armor than most of us can ever afford,” he says, casually flicking a finger to tap Tsukishima’s metal arm bracers.

Tsukishima clicks his tongue and pulls his arm away.

“And you stink like a monster hunter.”

“Excuse me?” Tsukishima unveils his most intimidating snarl.

The innkeeper is completely unaffected. He laughs and smiles, standing back up to set both of his hands on his hips. “Well, better eat up then. That wolf isn’t going to hunt itself.”

“You know about it?” Tsukishima raises an eyebrow.

“Of course! It’s all anyone’s been talking about for weeks. Seems like much ado about nothing, I think.”

“The person who hired me says it’s a shapeshifter.”

“Really? And this whole time I was assuming it was just a larger than normal wolf. I mean, would a Shifter just eat farm animals? Seems silly to me.”

“I don’t pretend to understand the mind of a Shifter.”

The innkeeper laughs at that, too. “Beats me. Eat up while it’s still hot.” He winks, “thats when it’s best. I’m Bokuto, by the way.”

Tsukishima nods, but doesn’t reply.

Bokuto seems to take him digging into his meat pie as response enough.

***

His first night of hunting is a complete failure. Not only does he not capture or kill the beast, but also the beast alluded him entirely. Tsukishima tracked the Shifter, used all the magic tools at his disposal, even set up a handful of traps where the scent was freshest and strongest. But come morning, all the traps had been carefully set off with nothing trapped inside except the sticks Tsukishima the Shifter clearly used to safely set them off.

And three farm animals were consumed - two chickens and a sheep.

Tsukishima thinks it’s not that bad.

The farmers think otherwise.

He sleeps in until late afternoon, choosing his bed over interacting with anyone downstairs until his hunger wins.

“How’d it go, hunter?” Bokuto beams from behind the counter.

Tsukishima grunts.

“Ah,” the innkeeper sighs, “I figured it didn’t go well. Everyone was up in arms over some chickens this morning.”

“And a sheep.”

“Still doesn’t seem like that much.” Bokuto shrugs.

That earns a smirk from Tsukishima. “Precisely what I was thinking. But if they’re paying me for results, then I’m not in the business of thinking then, am I?”

“So what’ll you try tonight?” He asks, setting down a bowl of some thick, hearty stew in front of Tsukishima.

The smell is so good his mouth starts watering before he even picks up a spoon. His first bite is too hot, but he shoves down another before he responds.

“I don’t usually share my plans with strangers.”

Bokuto plops his elbows down on the bartop right in front of Tsukishima, sets his head in his hands, and leans closer than anyone usually dares.

“We’re hardly strangers,” he grins, a look flashing through his bright golden eyes. “I feed you. I house you. We’re definitely more than strangers now.”

“We’re not friends.”

“We could be whatever you wish.” Bokuto’s grin melts into a smirk, one of his thick eyebrows raised.

Tsukishima leans back on his barstool and works a very pointed scowl onto his features, but he keeps his mouth shut tight. If he let loose one of his sarcastic comments now, he fears it might be taken as subtly suggestive with the way Bokuto’s looking at him now and he doesn’t want that.

True, he doesn’t _not_ want that.

If that’s even what he’s suggesting.

Food and good rest aren’t the only things Tsukishima’s body has had in short supply recently.

But there’s absolutely no other indication of potential secret desires and Tsukishima’s not about to make a fool of himself in a place where he has to stay for, at the very least, one more night.

“Then my wish is to eat in peace,” he grumbles.

Bokuto stands and laughs hard, the long column of his neck on display as he tosses his head back.

“Your wish is my command,” Bokuto chuckles over his shoulder as he walks off to attend to the kitchen behind the bar. “Good luck tonight, hunter.”

***

For days it’s the same pattern.

Track the Shifter. Get close, so close -- he can tell from the smell of the fur and the stench of fresh blood -- but not close enough.

Collect every magicked trap that was cleverly tripped without trapping anything except sticks and leaves.

Receive angry shouts from the townspeople.

Sleep off failure.

Crawl down to the bar for food and be restored by the bouncing ball of energy that is Bokuto.

The food is fantastic. The company, he admits only to himself in his own mind, is even better.

Bokuto barrels right through his steely demeanor and finds ways to make him laugh, make him smile even though the life of a hunter is exhausting once the thrill has worn off and all that’s left is the desperate chase for the next paycheck.

Tsukishima can’t remember the last time someone spoke to him about anything other than a job. Bokuto asks him about what he likes, about the creature’s hides on his armor, about -- anything really -- in between long stories Bokuto tells about funny customers and the few adventures he went on before settling down in his town.

Naturally, Boktuo talks to other customers but, Tsukishima’s not sure if he’s imagining it, he seems to spend the most time with him. And it’s clear he’s definitely still getting the best pies.

He’s come to like it here in this inn. It’ll be a shame when he has to leave again.

But for now, he lets himself enjoy, even if he keeps a carefully carved smirk in place most of the time.

And every evening when it’s time to attempt the hunt again, Bokuto’s heated glances when he thinks Tsukishima isn’t paying attention set Tsukishima’s skin on fire, energy and tension simmering just under the surface that he carries with him as fuel for the hunt.

***

After a week, his employer is not only demanding that Tsukishima return the half of the money he received up front, but also that he leave town if he continues to fail them.

Angry and exhausted, Tsukishima hefts his body down the stairs after a restless morning of sleep and settles his armored arms down heavily on the bartop, his teeth grit.

“Afternoon, hunter!” Bokuto greets him, but Tsukishima doesn’t bother looking up.

He silently seethes as he waits for his food.

Bokuto seems to read his mood and busies himself with preparing a meal.

Tsukishima doesn’t look up until there’s a meat pie and not one, but two ales placed in front of him.

“You look like you needed two,” Bokuto offers.

Tsukishima grunts again but it melts into a tired whine by the end of it. He sighs heavily, picks up a fork, and closes his eyes when the savory steam rushes towards his face when he pokes through the flaky top crust of the pie.

Typically, his hunger wins out and he digs into his food faster than his mouth can keep chewing. But today he picks and prods at his meal, feeling more thirsty and ready to drown his failures.

Those two ales become three, then four.

By the time his pie is done, there’s at least five drinks swirling around in his body. His tolerance is high after years of conditioning, but he’s perhaps just barely slipped over the line. Enough to loosen his lips and let his disappointments flow freely.

“--and I don’t know why this is so much harder!” Tsukishima pauses after he slurs the last two words. He shakes his head and slams his fist down on the bartop. “I get results. It’s what I do. There’s a monster. I hunt it. Two, three days tops. I can’t-- I don’t-- this is ridiculous,” he grumbles, his voice breaking out into a shout every few words to punctuate his frustration.

Bokuto has stacked a few crates behind the bar to sit on while he nods and listens to Tsukishima rant.

“Do you need another, hunter?”

Tsukishima slow shakes his head. When he does his eyes feel a little odd. He starts to lean to one side and Bokuto catches him with one arm.

“Oh, okay there. No more seems like a good idea.” He sets Tsukishima upright again, but his arm doesn’t leave him. It simply drifts down towards his armored wrists and lingers, Bokuto’s calloused fingers tracing along the designs on his bracers.

Tsukishima’s eyelids are heavy and he gives up the fight, letting them close while he steadies his breath. He can smell the ale in front of him, but he can also smell the leather of Bokuto’s apron and the heady scent of warm kitchens, hot pastries, good meat, and sweat that’s accompanies the man whenever he leans too close into Tsukishima’s space.

Like now.

Tsukishima keeps his eyes closed and breathes him in. His mind is just clouded enough that he lets himself indulge, but not so foggy that he isn’t acutely aware of Bokuto’s hands on his arms.

There’s a dark timbre to his voice when Bokuto says, “I think you might need to sleep this off, hunter.”

Tsukishima shakes his head, eyes still shut. “M’fine.”

“Not a good enough answer,” Bokuto slaps his hands together and Tsukishima can hear the crates creaking as he stands.

Slumping over onto his arm, Tsukishima yawns.

He has but a moment to himself before there’s two thick arms wrapping around his middle and hoisting him up from the stool. In one swift motion, Bokuto slings Tsukishima over his shoulder and grips him with one of those tree-trunk arms.

Tsukishima growls, “I swear, I’m gonna--”

Bokuto laughs hard and slaps him on the ass as he starts to tackle the stairs. “You’re gonna do what? I think you’re at my mercy right now, hunter.”

As his laugh continues to rumble through his body, Tsukishima wars within himself because yes, he is beyond offended that someone dare pick him up like this, but also, the want he’s barely contained is bubbling up from his chest, making his skin tingle all over. He stunned at how easily Bokuto was able to pick him up one-armed, then slap his ass like, he’s -- Tsukishima swallows thickly, his head swimming with ideas -- already been claimed.

With a grunt and no finesse, Bokuto tosses him down on his mattress.

“Sleep so you’ll be useful on your hunt tonight.” He stands by the side of Tsukishima’s bed, hands at his hips.

“I’m plenty useful as is,” Tsukishima replies instantly.

The ale in his blood is thick, but desire is thicker. His body is brimming with rage, disappointment, and want. He could use a little something else to set his mind right. He twists himself out of the mess of limbs he was when Bokuto dumped him on his bed and stretches.

Bokuto grins, raising one eyebrow like he so often does. “You should rest.” But he makes no move to leave.

Tsukishima stares. “I slept when I returned this morning. That’s not what I need.”

“Oh? What do you need then?”

Tsukishima sits up and turns so his back is to him. Still seated on the rustled sheets, he snaps off each piece of armor one-by-one, letting them clatter to the ground, until there’s nothing left but the sheer cotton undershirt he sleeps in.

Without even sparing a glance back over his shoulder, he settles on his side, leaving plenty of room behind him as he stretches and lets out a contended moan, like the scratchy sheets and stiff pillow are really quite that luxurious.

Now there’s the sound of heavy leathers hitting the floor, the feeling of the bed dipping down behind him, and then the warmth of Bokuto’s body along his back. One hand grips his shoulder as Bokuto silently presses hot kisses through the fabric on his back, up and over, everywhere, until he reaches Tsukishima’s strong but slender neck and grazes his teeth across the skin there.

Tsukishima bites his lip as a groan builds in his throat. His skin feels hot and alive at every point where they touch, at every kiss and lick along his neck. He reaches back and tangles his fingers in Bokuto’s hair and pulls. It earns him a low growl from the other man’s throat.

The sound sets off something in Tsukishima and he melts his body back even closer and stretches one leg back, locking it around Bokuto’s legs and tugging him closer. When he feels the long, hard length of him pressed against his backside, Tsukishima’s lips part on a sigh and he again yanks at the hair between his fingers, harder this time.

That elicits another growl, louder now, and he can feel it rumbling in Bokuto’s chest before it melts across his skin. The change from the grinning barkeep to the primal, growling mass of man behind him urgently pressing his cock against the seam of his ass is enough to make him groan.

The hand on his shoulder quickly comes up to cover his mouth. He feels Bokuto shifting behind him and then he’s whispering sharply in his ear, “can’t have the other guests hearing us now, can we?”

The switch is instant. The tentative touches become a flurry of quick, rushed moments of preparation as they fall together, both of them panting and rocking against one another even when they’re only connected by Bokuto’s thick, skilled fingers pressing into him. Tsukishima growls in frustration. This isn’t some tender moment, this is a need.

“Fuck me already,” he demands in a sharp tone, crooking his neck to stare intensely at the man behind him, ready to feel his body swallow the thick cock that’s been pressing against his back.

Bokuto’s eyes flash, then those fingers are dancing across Tsukishima’s skin, down his back, across the soft skin of his backside. With their eyes still locked, he guides himself to Tsukishima’s twitching hole.

The tip of his cock circles the rim, his eyes fluttering shut as he groans, and then he’s sinking in, fast and hard, placing a hand on Tsukishima’s shoulder to give himself leverage to press in deeper.

Tsukishima gasps as his body tenses then relaxes in a rush, the built-up tension leaving his body as Bokuto punches out winded moans and sighs from his lips, sliding that heavy cock nearly all the way out before slamming back in each time.

Bokuto grunts with the effort of it and Tsukishima can feel Bokuto’s feet searching for purchase on the bed. With a frantic energy, he twists his body, seeking ways to pound deeper inside of him with each strong snap of his hips. 

With a frustrated growl, Bokuto sinks himself inside, then lifts Tsukishima’s leg up higher so he can reposition himself on his knees. Fingers grab at soft skin until his leg is on Bokuto’s shoulder, his hips lifting up off the bed in another show of Bokuto’s strength.

He knows he could fight it, that he’s a match for Bokuto, could easily overpower him, but it’s so good to let go, let his body be loose and ride out the sensation of everything he feels with Bokuto’s hands digging into his thighs, his cock driving deep inside him. His moans are barely contained as he bites his lips to keep them shut.

Bokuto’s grunts are held behind grit teeth, but then he twists his hips and groans with his head thrown back, loud and unrestrained, lost to pleasure and forgetting to maintain his own wish for courtesy for the other guests on the other side of the thin walls.

With every passing second, Bokuto’s movements grow more wild, merciless in his rapid, deep thrusts. He’s wrapped his fingers around Tsukishima’s thigh, the other grasping into the meat at his hip, using his entire body to thrust himself harder and faster.

Tsukishima gives up trying to grab onto the bed to steady himself and lets his body be dragged against the sheets as Bokuto growls and moans above him.

It’s almost unbearable when Bokuto approaches his peak, his hips pounding against Tsukishima’s already sensitive skin. He cries out when Bokuto’s fingers wrap around his leaking cock, pumping him at the same frenetic pace.

And then Bokuto’s cumming, hot and thick as he pumps his release into Tsukishima’s waiting hole. Even as he’s lost to the crest of pleasure, his hand still works Tsukishima at the same unrelenting pace as before.

Bokuto presses messy, wet kisses to the leg over his shoulder until Tsukishima’s groaning and spilling into his hand and onto the sheets.

His eyes closed, Tsukishima sinks against the pillow, content and spent. He feels the bed dip behind him, then a blanket is carefully thrown over him and tucked around his back.

He hears the sound of metal clasps, of boots hitting the floor, then the heavy thud of a door shutting closed as he drifts into a blissful sleep.

***

When he awakes, it’s dark outside his small window and Tsukishima jolts upright, remembering he has work to do.

The moment his feet hit the floor, he groans, feeling an ache in his hips and soreness in his thighs. He breathes deeply, knowing by now how to breathe through much more immense pain. This is nothing but a nice reminder. And he has a task. He will not fail tonight.

In minutes, he’s dressed and ready. He descends the stairs in his heavy boots and dares a furtive glance to the bar looking for the man who provided such excellent company only a few hours ago, but he isn’t there.

For the best, Tsukishima reasons, focusing instead on the hunt ahead.

He retraces the now familiar steps towards the part of the forest where the Shifter’s smell is the strongest, shouting in frustration when he passes every magicked trap he set the night before that’s already been tripped with nothing inside.

Useless, absolutely useless.

Tonight he won’t rely on pretty parlor tricks. He’ll rely on the only thing he can trust -- his hands and the blade at his back.

The smell of blood is thick in the air, coppery and bitter as it hits his nose. There’s another smell there, too, something like the scent of a fresh kill, the same as the moment when he’s hovering over an animal he’s hunted for a meal.

He closes his eyes, stills his feet, and listens. The Shifter must be close.

For moments there’s nothing.

Then a snap of a branch.

He jumps to face the sound, but in that instant, something is behind him, grabbing him, covering his mouth with a fur-covered hand.

His heart pounds before he can calm it, before he can clear his mind and react like he knows he should. He struggles on instinct until there’s a deep voice in his ear, a throaty growl that freezes every muscle in his body.

“How dare you come into these woods reeking of sex.” The hand around his mouth tightens, the other presses into his chest, hard, then it roams down his body.

Years of training kick in and he settles his drumming heart, clears his senses, and readies himself to defend.

The voice is only that much clearer when it rumbles in his ear a second time, hot, wet breath falling against his skin.

“I can smell myself all over you.”

As his muscles ready for a counter strike, that gives him pause. His eyes widen as his breath catches in his throat.

“You have ten seconds to start running or I won’t be able to help myself.”

The arms around him let go and there are the quick snaps of the forest floor behind him as the creature dashes away.

His heart starts pounding again, this time out of recognition that he knows who this is, down in his bones he knows this is Bokuto. The smell of him, his growl -- it’s familiar but otherworldly now. It sets him on edge in a way he’s not felt before.

He turns to face where the Shifter retreated.

“It’s you,” he says with certainty.

“Ten,” the Shifter growls.

“You’re the Wolf.”

“Nine.”

“But how could--”

“You have to leave now,” the Shifter warns, stepping into a break in the trees that casts moonlight on his gargantuan form. All fur and brawn, broad shoulders and massive limbs, towering above Tsukishima even at a distance. His features are sharp, dark, grey. Fur covers his body, but his strength is evident in the carved muscles across every inch of him. Teeth caked in fresh blood glisten in the flickering of light through the trees.

“What will you do to me?” Tsukishima asks inquisitively as those usually golden eyes, now a bright yellow, narrow as they take him in.

“Don’t. You don’t know how I am.”

Tsukishima takes a step closer. His body is alert with fear laced with desire as his eyes feed on the sight of him. He’s naked in the moonlight and every part of him he sees, from those thick shoulders to his heavy cock hanging between his huge thighs make his chest thud with an unexpected feeling.

“What if I want to find out?”

The Wolf -- Bokuto -- struggles, pulling himself backwards and deeper into the forest even as his sharp eyes refuse to look away.

“Go. Now.” His growl is shaky now, desperate.

Tsukishima smirks. “Is everything bigger when you’re like this?”

Bokuto’s low growl bleeds into a howl as his neck cranes up towards the night sky.

“Leave,” the Wolf demands when his fierce eyes land on Tsukishima again, but he takes a step closer.

Tsukishima thinks it’s meant to me menacing, but it only makes him want to discover all the more.

“No.”

In a flash, Bokuto is gone and Tsukishima’s eyes dart around the dark forest as his hunting instincts try to find him.

There’s no need.

Behind him.

A heaving chest presses against his head. He opens his mouth to shout, but a hand quickly covers it, the other wraps around his body and digs in to his layers of armor, sliding lower and lower down his body.

That growl rumbles deep in his ear again, “I bet you’re still wet from me.”

Tsukishima mouth falls open on a gasp behind his hand as the other rakes over his body down to the curve of his ass in his leathers. Thick fingers, the sharp prick of claws grip through the leather armor like it’s nothing.

“Did you wash out all my cum or am I still inside you?”

Bokuto breathes in deep, his muzzle pressed against Tsukishima’s neck. A rough tongue follows in its wake.

Tsukishima’s legs tremble, from fear or desire, at this point he’s not sure which is winning, but he sinks into the mass of muscle behind him.

He feels a gentle scratch of teeth at his neck and he tries to cry out again behind the huge hand, his heart pounding in his ears.

The hand over his mouth is released. Tsukishima gasps, his body collapsing, folding in half as he tries to find breath. 

Two hands grab him arms and heave him back.

The next sensation is a flash of cold air on his legs as his leathers are ripped free like thin sheets of paper and then something impossibly hot and colossal pressing between his cheeks. Already he feels like he’s being split open and Bokuto’s cock hasn’t even breached him yet.

With his mouth free, he sobs into the night, terrified and filled with lust. Those two furry hands grip him tight, bruises blooming under his armor, he’s sure, and he’s pulled backwards as that cock bursts past the rim of muscle, still slick from before. 

Bokuto grunts and growls as Tsukishima shouts nonsense into the night air, hi vision blacking out as that cock slides in through his already messy hole and splits him open, fills him more than can be possible, he’s sure. It doesn’t stop. Every inch he thinks it must be done, but the pain wracked with pleasure continues.

He hangs in the air, suspended by the arms keeping him upright as his legs give out. Bokuto’s hips finally press against his skin, and he chokes around a sob.

There’s barely a moment to adjust, already an impossible task with the girth that’s stretching him. The Wolf shifts his hips, grunting as he explores the depths of Tsukishima’s body. Then immediately, he pulls out halfway then uses his overwhelming strength, his grip on his arms, to force Tsukishima back against his cock to meet his thrust.

The air is punched from Tsukishima’s lungs and he knows all he can do is hang on as the thrusts continue at a primal, needy pace. Bokuto’s growls have shifted into hot, heavy pants while Tsukishima grits his teeth around choked back sobs and moans in his throat.

“Little human, you take me so well,” Bokuto groans. “Need to see how I wreck you.”

Like a ragdoll, Tsukishima’s picked up from the ground and spun around, the Wolf’s cock still buried deep inside, until his face is pressed against his hairy chest. Bokuto grips his shoulders, holding him against those massive hips. Tsukishima tries to work his legs around him for something to control, something to steady himself, but there’s too much. He struggles uselessly before Bokuto licks his forehead.

“I’ve got you.” There’s a low, content grumble in his chest. One of the Wolf’s hands finds the end of Tsukishima’s shirt and tugs it up, his armor pressing up against his chin.

Rough, furry fingers press against his stomach as both of them groan into the night air.

“Little human, I can see myself in you.” Bokuto thrusts up with a powerful snap of his hips.

Tsukishima sobs against his chest, so untethered from the world now that he can only feel where they’re connected, where Bokuto is stretching him, working him open, stroking every part of him from the inside.

“Is this what you needed?”

Tsukishima’s eyes flutter open with effort and he sees those intense yellow eyes staring at him, that long tongue licking over sharp teeth.

He nods limply as his head falls back on a moan.

“Still think you can hunt me, tiny human?”

“No!” He shouts as Bokuto thrusts his hips hard against his ass, pressing in so deep another wave of terror and hunger rolls through him.

“Then what are you going to do?”

“Fu-u-uck,” he punches out between thrusts of the Wolf’s hips.

For a moment, Bokuto stops, holding Tsukishima in place. His lip raises in a snarl.

The Wolf fucks him senseless. Tsukishima’s first orgasm surprises him, rocking through his body and bringing tears to his eyes that spill down his face. Bokuto doesn’t slow, not for a second. He growls and spits, howls out into the night as his cock thrusts deep inside of him.

Another orgasm hits right after, his cock dry and spent, his entire body sensitive and on edge. His vision blurs. His thoughts are gone. He tries to grab onto a shoulder, onto fur, but his hands are as pointless as the rest of him.

Another wave of pleasure hits and then his mind is as black as the night that engulfs him.

***

Tsukishima wakes up in a bed. Every bone in his body aches, but he’s clean and dressed in a shirt softer, and bigger, than anything he owns. There’s layers of blankets on top of him all tucked carefully around his frame.

He blinks his eyes open slowly and is greeted by the sight of two round, golden eyes looking at him with concern.

“G-good morning,” Bokuto stammers. He reaches out a hand towards Tsukishima but then pulls it back, a sheepish expression on his face.

“I’m--” Bokuto sighs heavily, his whole body drooping with the sound. “I’m glad you’re okay. I mean,” his eyes grow larger, “are you okay?”

Tsukishima nods against his pillow.

Bokuto speaks quickly. “I brought food for you. All the things I know you like. I brought two meat pies! And I can feed them to you if you need me to. But there’s also stew ‘cause maybe that’d be--”

A small grin forms at the corner of Tsukishima’s lips. “Bokuto, I’m fine.”

Bokuto’s face is suddenly right in front of his. “But are you hungry? Are you cold? I can get more blankets. And I already treated the bruises and put warm cloths on your, erm--” A deep blush spreads across his cheeks.

“You weren’t shy last night,” he smirks.

Bokuto’s shoulders slump more. “I’m sorry.”

Carefully, Tsukishima slips one arm free from the blankets to stroke along Bokuto’s reddened cheeks.

“Don’t be. I asked for it. Quite literally.”

“But I--”

He sets a finger on the seam of Bokuto’s lips. “Enough of that. Now,” he sighs as he tries his best to move, “I believe I was offered to be spoon fed some stew?”

Bokuto perks up immediately and he bounces off the bed to grab for the dishes he’s set along the windowsill.

Tsukishima methodically rises to a seated position, nursing his tender body as he does, oddly ready for an almost incompatibly domestic morning after what was, truly, a singular night of his life.

But perhaps, he smiles to himself watching Bokuto prepare to feed him, it doesn’t have to be.

***

Later, with bellies full and two warm arms wrapped around him in bed, Tsukishima asks, “would you be open to a new idea?”

Bokuto makes an interested humming sound behind him.

“You can’t keep killing animals.”

The arms around him twitch. “Why not? People eat meat all the time!”

“But we pay for it.”

Bokuto seems to consider this for a moment. “So if I just paid for all the animals we’d all be fine?”

“Naturally. And only if they were for sale.”

“But I don’t have that much money. And I am always very hungry. I try to only take a little bit! Just what I need for the night.”

Tsukishima sighs, his thoughts taking on new shapes with each problem he’s presented. “What if you ventured out farther?”

He feels Bokuto sink into the bed behind him.

“I tried. I never make it back in time to run my human life, too. And I like my life here,” he adds the last part softly, voice barely above a whisper.

Tsukishima settles his hand on one of the ones wrapped around him. “What if you had some help?”

“Hm?”

He sighs again, but it’s lighter, more content. “I’m going to have to give back the money I was paid.”

Bokuto’s head peeks over his shoulder. “Why?”

“Because,” still in Bokuto’s arms, he rolls onto his back so he can look at him clearly. “Maybe I am tired of travelling. Maybe I’ve really found the best meat pies in the world. Maybe I--” for a moment his words fail him with those big, golden eyes searching Tsukishima’s face for answers. “Maybe I want to stay. For a little while. If you want.”

Bokuto’s face shifts through a hundred different emotions at once before he settles on being overjoyed. He jumps up to his knees on the bed, the blankets falling behind him, his naked body on full display in the sunlight pouring through the window.

“Really?”

Tsukishima laughs softly and nods.

“You can help me at the bar and help me hunt and we can talk all the time and I can feed you every single day and you can sleep here! In my bed and--” If possible, Bokuto’s grin stretches wider. “We can have sex all the time now!”

Laughter bubbles out of Tsukishima chest, his own smile growing, soft and sweet, until it turns a bit wicked.

“Can you change into the Wolf whenever you want?”

“Well sure but,” Bokuto says casually before the meaning hits him. A flash of bright yellow passes through his eyes. “You want that?”

Tsukishima nods again, a smirk on his lips. “Very much.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Monster Lovin' Weekend!  
> As a proud monster, erm, _lover_ myself, I can't believe it took me this long to write some good, ol'fashioned monster dickin.' *sighs* Tsukishima, you lucky duck.
> 
> Comments, kudos, and bookmarks make me smile! (And I always reply to comments!)
> 
> Chat with me on Twitter - [@HeyMellieJellie](https://twitter.com/HeyMellieJellie). I scream about haikyuu and post story threads, too!


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